


Final Moments

by cockles_take_the_wheel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cross-Posted on Tumblr, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, meta!cockles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-05
Updated: 2013-09-05
Packaged: 2017-12-27 01:38:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/972788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cockles_take_the_wheel/pseuds/cockles_take_the_wheel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What’s going through Meta!Misha’s head as he is walked to his death?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Final Moments

Misha knew he was going to die.

The instant the cool steel of the knife’s blade touched his throat in the car, he knew.

They drove in almost absolute silence. The armed man in the back seat only spoke when he gave directions, ‘turn here’, ‘slow down’, ‘pull over’.

He thought about his family, his brother Sasha and his Father. His half sisters, Danielle and Elizabeth. He thought about, oddly enough, his high school girlfriend. He thought about how he’d fucked that relationship up as soon as he started getting some notoriety.

But by and large, the thing Misha thinks about most as he drives to his own death, is Jensen. He thinks about his hands and his lips, his eyes, his voice, his smile and laugh, his gruff ‘fuck off’ tone when he was pissed, the way he smelled like coffee and foundation during night shoots. He thinks about cold, long nights in the Vancouver fall, freezing his ass off and letting his eyes linger at the end if takes.

Misha thinks about Jensen’s jaw and beard, his golf outfits and bare feet. He thinks about the way the air felt charged when they were on set together. The way Jensen said his name when he was annoyed because he kept ruining takes. The way he said ‘Mish’ when he didn’t think too hard about it. The way he called him ‘Dmitri’ when he did his terrible Russian accent.

He thought about home, with Jensen. Traveling, with Jensen. Sleeping and showering and napping with Jensen.

He regretted never giving it a shot, or asking him out. He regretted never getting to kiss him, he regretted never getting to wake up next to him, or cook him dinner. He regretted an entire life’s worth of first with Jensen. 

Because, as the armed man walked him into the alley, the only thing that mattered, that ever really mattered, that would haunt him into the next life, was Jensen.

**Author's Note:**

> gif source: [[X](http://jeankirchstein.tumblr.com/post/22014745893)]


End file.
